


To Praise Caesar

by magentateam_bplot



Category: Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Comeplay, Dom/sub, Embarrassment, M/M, Nation X, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Under-negotiated Kink, Utopia (Marvel), but it's hard to say who's who, dick stepping, the mortifying ordeal of getting your dick sucked by magneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magentateam_bplot/pseuds/magentateam_bplot
Summary: “Oh Scott, I am disheartened that you still don’t trust me. How can I prove myself?” His words are sad, but the irritating smirk still stays firmly on his face. “Won’t you allow me to give myself over to your authority?”In one smooth motion, Erik drops to his knees. Scott takes that step back.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Scott Summers, background Scott Summers/Emma Frost
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	To Praise Caesar

**Author's Note:**

> I was VERY surprised to realize that no one had written fic based on Magneto getting on his knees for Scott in Uncanny X-Men #516, so here we are. Title is, of course, from Mags' "I come not to bury Caesar...but to praise him" line. 
> 
> This fic takes place during the Nation X arc, sometime between Magneto’s arrival in #516 and his retrieval of Kitty from space, but I have not attempted to make sure all the canon details line up. 
> 
> Content warnings/notes:  
> -Large age gap with potentially weird dynamics (My reading of canon is that Scott and Emma are in their late 20s during Utopia and Erik is around 80 but appears 45. This is debatable—see end notes for discussion of ages and comic timeline retcons if you’re concerned about this)  
> -Undernegotiated/unnegotiated kink (Everyone is into it, but only Scott/Emma have prenegotiated anything, while Scott/Erik is the focus of this fic and haven’t negotiated the kink stuff they’re playing with at all)

Scott hears a knock on his office door, quickly followed by it swinging open without waiting for his response. Of all the people who would disregard a closed door, Scott is already half-expecting to see Magneto—Erik—who slips in and closes the door again. 

“Hello Scott.” Erik shimmers with sweat, his tank top and leggings clinging to his muscles. Scott fights his old instinct to avert his eyes when confronted with the sight of very...present...bodies. 

He stands and clears his throat. “I hope you’re settling in well. I do mean for this to be a place that welcomes all mutants who want to build something.”

A flash of something unreadable crosses Erik’s face before it settles into the slight smirk that seemed to be the usual for him these days. He nods, steps a little closer to Scott. He wants something, Scott can tell. 

“If you’ve finished your workout, I’ve assigned you to accompany Madison Jeffries to do a survey of the island. You can ask a student to walk you to his lab if you don’t know where it is,” Scott continues, undeterred. Sometimes being a leader means willfully ignoring what a teammate refuses to state. 

“I thought I could make myself useful some other way,” Erik says, leaning in right to the border of the distance where Scott would take a step back. He realizes, suddenly, that this close up he’s actually taller than Erik. 

“The stability of our base is the most pressing thing you can help with.” He crosses his arms.

Scott is not stupid. He isn’t, despite what some people seem to think, an authoritarian who’ll be swayed by a display of submission. He won’t bring Erik too deep into the X-Men without knowing what his game is. 

“Oh Scott, I am disheartened that you still don’t trust me. How can I prove myself?” His words are sad, but the irritating smirk still stays firmly on his face. “Won’t you allow me to give myself over to your authority?”

In one smooth motion, Erik drops to his knees. Scott takes that step back. 

Before he can respond, he feels Emma’s touch in his mind from where she’s running the telepaths through drills across the island. 

_Remember how we discussed you sleeping with other people, darling?_ she sends, cool and amused. 

Ah. 

“May I?” Erik says lowly, one hand resting lightly on the top of his boot.

Scott is not stupid, but he’s willing to admit that he’s sometimes slow on the uptake in social situations. He supposes, surreally, that Magneto propositioning him is a social situation. 

_I thought that you meant Logan_ , he admits, dazed.

Emma laughs her particular crystalline, cool laugh she uses when they play. _I kept my options open after that little ‘praising Caesar’ display he put on. Wouldn’t you like to put him in his place a little?_

If only. Scott, even in this position, has his doubts that anything can put the infamous Magneto in his place, but he knows his line. _Yes ma’am_. Emma’s attention flicks away from him with another laugh. 

He looks down at the play of muscles waiting for his word, tries calculating possible moves, but feels them slip out of his mind at the sheer strangeness of the situation. Not training for sex-related improvisation was clearly a mistake. 

Out loud, he settles on, “Ask me nicely.”

Erik’s eyes snap up in a futile attempt to meet his. Scott very carefully takes a deep, slow breath to suppress a blush. He must succeed because Erik tucks his head down again to look up at Scott through his long, light lashes. 

“Please, Scott?” He isn’t smirking now, but the overly intense sincerity he emanates is possibly worse. “May I suck you, sir?” 

Scott nods. 

Erik nuzzles at him through his costume, sighing softly. He can feel himself hardening against the brush of his cheeks. 

“More quickly,” he commands, trying to channel Emma. She’d accompany that with a prod of her riding crop, but the very thought of using a crop on Erik makes him want to blush again. Nonetheless, he feels the zippers on his costume sliding all the way down and Erik yanking his boxers off. His hands feel huge on his hips. 

“Oh, you’re big,” Erik practically purrs, “Lovely.” 

“Stop that,” he grumbles, forgetting himself for a moment and nudging at Erik’s thigh with his boot. He can’t help but notice that Erik is hard in his leggings, the bulge considerable. He swallows. 

Erik grins with all his teeth for a moment, dazzling. “Oh, I never exaggerate.” 

His hips buck forward involuntarily when Erik pumps the base of his cock. “Hands behind your back,” he snaps. 

“Yes sir,” Erik says, infuriatingly demure. Clasping his hands behind him makes his chest muscles strain against his tank top. Scott is sure that he senses him looking, though he gives no sign. But no, in this moment Erik is Scott’s to look at. To touch. 

“Open your mouth,” he says, dragging his thumb down Erik’s lower lip, and then, “No,” when Erik tries to draw his thumb into his mouth. 

“Do you want this?” Scott loosely wraps a fist around himself, tries to recall what his past lovers have done when he was on the other side of this. 

“Mmm, please,” Erik says, licking his lips. “Use my mouth.” 

Scott fails to suppress a breath at that. 

“Let me treat you as befits a ruler of men,” Erik continues, completely ruining the moment. 

Scott impulsively wants to hit him for it, and after a second’s pause, does, slapping his cock roughly against Erik’s cheek. It feels absurd, but Erik groans, long and loud. He can’t be sure, but he thinks that a flush is rising on Erik’s cheeks as well. Good. He’s handling the situation.

“Let me be of service to you.” Erik pouts ever so slightly. Seeing it makes Scott want to grind his teeth and look away again. So instead, he gives in and feeds Erik his cock in one smooth thrust. 

Unfortunately, Erik is spectacular at giving head. His mouth is hot and slick, and he immediately sets to bobbing his head and sliding his tongue insistently under the head. He tries thrusting at an angle, turns Erik’s chin slightly with his right hand, nudges the softness of his inner cheek. Scott looks at Erik’s wet mouth stretched around him, rubs with his left hand at the obscene bulge of his cockhead inside Erik’s cheek, and feels his toes involuntarily curl inside his boots. Jesus.

Erik pulls off with a slick pop, takes several audible breaths. Saliva and precome shine on his mouth. “Would you like me to suck you like this in front of your X-Men? Show them how well you’ve conquered your enemies?” 

Scott groans hard enough Emma can probably sense it. “Why are you like this?” 

Another brief, genuine grin. “Like what?” Erik bends forward, lets the head of Scott’s cock tap against his bottom lip. His cock, betraying him, jumps. 

In lieu of attempting to detail how infuriating Erik’s entire schtick is, he thrusts back into his waiting mouth. 

His touch on Erik’s hair to guide him is light at first, then turns firm when Erik moans loudly, showily, around his cock at an accidental tug. 

Without Erik’s hands free to counterbalance, it should have been tricky for him to bob his head up and down Scott’s cock to meet his thrusts, but Erik is still managing to keep pace. The wet sounds seem impossibly loud. 

Looking at how how Erik moans around him, Scott wants to gently stroke his cheek. He’s sure that Erik would laugh at him again for breaking character. Scott thrusts hard down his throat instead. Thrusts again, and again, pulling deliberately hard at his coarse white curls.

He isn’t sure how long he keeps going. Erik’s lips have somehow made it to the base of his cock. Scott feels lightheaded. He stops thrusting, holds Erik’s head down and feels how his throat spasms around him. Realizes that he’s broken Erik’s pace.

He lets him up for air. Erik gulps in breaths, eyes glittering, chin completely wet. Scott flatters himself that Erik looks a fraction as dazed as Scott feels. 

Erik licks sloppily up and down his cock, still panting. “Do it,” he rasps, “Come down my throat.” 

With that, Scott comes back to himself a little. He thrusts back into Erik’s mouth just once, then starts jerking himself off, still tugging back on Erik’s hair to tilt his face up. Erik seems to realize what he’s planning just in time to close his eyes and open his mouth.

Scott’s vision whites out as he comes for several incredibly long moments. When he comes to again, pearly white streaks are painted across Erik’s high cheekbones and broad jaw, gathered in his long eyelashes and wrecked mouth. 

“Thank you, sir.” Erik licks his lips, swallows. Very gently laps Scott’s softening cock and tucks him back into his boxers. Scott feels his costume zip up again, smoothly.

He and Erik stare at each other. Scott wonders if he should thank him back. If he should kiss him. The silence stretches for one beat, two. 

With the terrible deliberate slowness of someone who had been planning to do this the whole time, Erik bends down to kiss Scott’s boots. 

Scott nearly kicks him in the face scrambling backwards.

Seemingly unperturbed, Erik dodges gracefully. He smiles, leonine. Scott’s come drips down his chin. He is still visibly, obscenely hard in his leggings.

Slowly, Scott raises a boot and settles it on top of his crotch. Erik’s mouth falls open slightly, and Scott presses down harder. 

Erik grinds openly against the sole of his boot, leaning back on his hands for leverage. “Would you like me to come like this?” The same feline smile still tugs at the corners of his mouth even though he’s clearly affected. Scott lets himself feel a small pang of victory. Waits a long moment. 

“I would like you,” and he uses a finger to tip Erik’s chin up, “to report to Jeffries’ lab.” He presses down hard one last time with his boot as he pushes himself back, drawing a low moan from Erik. He doesn’t look back at him as he strides out of the room.

He’s already halfway down the hall before he realizes that was _his_ office he had just left. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Five minutes later:  
> “Emma, he’s going to wash his face before he goes anywhere, right? _Right?_ ”  
> “...Consider this a lesson in why giving clear orders is so important.” 
> 
> Please do not ask me about how Scott takes off his costume. I think it makes the most sense for that design to zip up the back, but I have chosen to ignore it for fic purposes. 
> 
> Timeline/ages note: Erik ages more or less in real time, but he’s been physiologically de-aged at least 20 years (according to Uncanny X-Men #200), likely more depending on interpretation of other rejuvenations. How old he appears seems to be up to the whim of the artist.
> 
> In contrast, most other X-Men characters age according to the sliding Marvel timeline and tend to not age past a certain point. 2019 Uncanny X-Men declared Scott to be 28, which I find pretty nonsensical, but it may mean that he was only around 25 during Utopia, when this fic was set. 
> 
> Erik and Scott first meet in battle when Scott is pretty young. Going by X-Men #1, he’s clearly 18-19 at that point, but it’s later retconned that he had been younger. Scott and Erik don’t have any real conversation until after the Phoenix Saga, at which point Scott is firmly college aged or older. 
> 
> The recent retcon by Hickman in House of X/Powers of X that only 10 years pass between the founding of the X-Men and Dawn of X compresses the timeline to the point of absurdity, so there’s no real answer that makes sense regarding character ages. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to not read this fic.


End file.
